"You won't give me the part?"
"Certainly not. You shouldn't ask it."
"Doesn't Léontine Murat mean more to the public than Norma Berwynd?" she demanded.
"Until last night, yes. To-day—well, no. She has created this rôle.
Besides—you—couldn't play the part."
"And why not, if you please?"
"I don't want to hurt your feelings, Léontine."
"Go on!" she commanded, in a voice roughened by passion.
"In the first place you're not—young enough." The woman quivered. "In the second place, you've grown heavy. Then, too, your accent—"
She broke out at him furiously. "So! I'm old and fat and foreign. I've lost my beauty. You think so, eh? Well, other men don't. I'll show you what men think of me—"
"This is no time for threats," he interrupted, coldly.